


Unspoken

by skieswideopen



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-06 11:37:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skieswideopen/pseuds/skieswideopen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's finding that his relationship with Cam is affecting how he does his job. Set in Season 4 of SGA and therefore post-SG1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://community.livejournal.com/sg_flyboys/profile)[**sg_flyboys**](http://community.livejournal.com/sg_flyboys/) exchange for [](http://dossier.livejournal.com/profile)[**dossier**](http://dossier.livejournal.com/), who wanted arguments and romance.

"Are you insane?" Rodney hissed. The nearest High Guard looked at them sharply, red-gloved fingers tightening reflexively around his spear. Rodney glanced at the guard nervously, then stepped closer to John, and continued in a quieter tone. "The last three guys who sat down in that chair stood up again as drooling idiots!"

John winced inwardly, but kept his face carefully neutral. "They weren't actually drooling," he replied mildly, knowing that it would irritate Rodney. He'd been trying hard not to think about the vacant faces the Izula had paraded before them.

"Fine. Non-drooling idiots, then. All of them left with IQs that couldn't warm water."

"We don't really have a choice here, Rodney." John looked past Rodney to offer a cautious smile to the Twin Monarchs, whose expressions were slowly shifting from expectant to impatient. "They've promised to let you go after I do this," he said in a low voice, eyes still on the Monarchs. "Even if I fail. You need to make sure that Weinstein and Talbert head straight for the gate. No heroics." Not that that either of the new lieutenants looked ready for heroics at the moment. They were both standing with their backs against the far wall, the spears of the guards grazing their throats. To John's eye, they both looked very young, and very scared, though they were hiding it well. His gaze fell on the holsters of the High Guard. "And keep your hands off their tech. The last thing we need is to get into a shooting match against a gang armed with Ancient weapons."

"Sheppard," Rodney began, but John was already walking determinedly toward the chair.

He paused as he reached it and ran one hand along the cool arm. It looked just like all of the other control chairs he'd sat in since Antarctica. There was nothing to suggest that it had destroyed the minds of dozens of people over the years. The Twin Monarchs thought that perhaps John's greater experience with Ancient tech would prevent him from suffering the same fate. John hoped they were right.

He walked slowly around to the front of the chair and turned to sit down, attention divided between Rodney on one side, and Weinstein and Talbert on the other. All three of them looked worried and miserable. As he started to lower himself down, another face flashed in front of his mind's eye. Cam. Who would be finding out about this incident from a report if John failed. Possibly hearing the news in front of dozens of witnesses. Possibly not finding out until a blank-faced John was wheeled off _Daedalus_.

John froze.

Maybe he should have asked Rodney to go back to Earth and deliver the news in person. But that would have involved explaining why Cam deserved a personal visit, and he didn't have time for that conversation right now. He cursed silently for not having thought of this before. For not having made arrangements of some sort.

A more horrifying thought occurred to him. Whatever else it might do, the chair probably wasn't going to kill him. He could live for _decades_ after this. And Cam--loyal, family-oriented, Boy Scout Cam--would feel obliged to help him. To check in on him. Possibly even, and John suppressed a shudder, to look after him.

For a fleeting moment, John considered not sitting down. Yes, they'd been overpowered once, but he had the element of surprise right now. If he rushed the nearest guard and managed to grab his weapon from his holster...Weinstein didn't have the gene, but Talbert did. If she could grab a weapon off the guard in front of her while he was distracted, and John could get a third one to Rodney...

The Twin Monarchs noticed his hesitation and gestured in unison. One of the High Guards began walking purposefully toward Rodney. Two others stepped closer to Weinstein and Talbert, spears drawing drops of bright blood from their throats. He could see Weinstein settle into a stone-faced expression that didn't quite cover the raw terror in his eyes, and watched Talbert steel herself, certain she was going to die here. John breathed out slowly and relaxed in defeat.

"You had to pick today to start breaking in the new people," he muttered, and settled back into the chair.

The familiar rush of power washed over him, grounded by the usual demand for instructions. But the usual queries about the aiming and allocation of weapons were buried beneath hundreds of other demands for attention, for direction, for information. Power. Ammunition. Water. Fuel. The avalanche threatened to bury him. _There's something wrong with the computer_, he realized, struggling to maintain some sort of barrier. The processors weren't functioning properly, and the systems were trying to compensate by using him as a replacement. He took a deep breath and pushed out one order, as forcefully as he could. _Shut down._

The deluge stopped. He opened his eyes. The lights in the room had gone off, the chair was quiescent, and the Twin Monarchs looked confused. John slowly stretched and stood up lazily, trying to project an air of casual calm. Like shutting down half-functioning Ancient control chairs was all in a day's work.

He just hoped Rodney could fix the computer.

* * *

 

John wasn't quite sure when his relationship with Cameron Mitchell had shifted from friends who occasionally slept together to...well, something more. Something he hadn't tried to name. Something that set his pulse racing whenever he walked through the gate and saw Cam waiting for him on the other side, soldier-straight and smiling warmly. Something that left him breathless when Cam's hand brushed against his in the halls of the SGC. Something that had him rushing to check his email whenever they received a burst from Earth. That made Cam's apartment feel oddly like home, on the rare occasions he made it back there. Something that was slowly shifting from exhilarating to rock-solid.

Something that, for the first time in his career, had him hesitating when faced with his own end. And he wasn't sure what the hell that meant.

* * *

 

Six weeks after the Izu mission, SG1 arrived in Atlantis so that Jackson could spend some time in the archives and Cam could demonstrate some upgrades to the 302s to Atlantis's pilots. For once it was an entirely routine visit, without even a hint of impending disaster. Sam half-jokingly scheduled a welcome-to-Atlantis party for the first night, saying that SG1 ought to have a chance to see the best the city had to offer, and John gave the marines a little more leeway than usual in organizing it. Neither external nor internal disaster derailed the plans, and he and Cam managed to slip away unnoticed when Jakowski and Mercer started on their two-man fire juggling routine.

The visit was a good one, up until the end. Jackson mostly found what he was looking for and managed to outsnark Rodney while he did it, the improvements to the 302s were almost enough to make John want to give up his jumper, and Sam looked more relaxed than she had in weeks, even when Vala managed to convince three young marines to trade a case of ammunition for an elaborate necklace that Vala later claimed to have been _sure_ was Ancient technology. And of course there were the many small pleasures of having Cam around. Not just sex, but two-way conversations without week-long delays and introducing Cam to Pegasus cuisine and casually brushing past each other in the hall and being able to watch the way Cam's eyes crinkled when he smiled at John's jokes. All the little things they missed out on when they were stationed in separate galaxies.

Twelve hours before SG1 was scheduled to leave, everything went to hell.

Cam's voice crackled in John's ear, calmly cheerful. "So who'd you piss off, Sheppard?"

"No idea," John replied. He kept his eyes closed as he concentrated on directing the drones around the 302s and into the barrage of enemy fighters. "We've never seen them before."

"You'd think someone would have mentioned that there was another group around with starships," Cam grumbled, twisting to avoid an incoming missile. John tracked the movements of Cam's ship through city's sensor array, watching as he dodged incoming fighters and slowly fought his way in the direction of the enemy ship, only to be pushed back time and again. The sensors fed the location and paths and destinations of all of the ships and missiles and drones to John, data thrumming through his head in a smooth, steady stream that laid the whole battle out before him. Forty minutes into the fight, it was clear that Atlantis didn't stand a chance. The invaders, whoever they were, had them outnumbered and outgunned, and it was only the control chair and the skill of Atlantis's pilots that had let them hold out this long. But Atlantis had a limited supply of drones, and the 302s were being blown to pieces one by one, and John _knew_ they were going to lose this fight and fall to an enemy they couldn't even name. He knew that sooner or later, Cam's ship was going to be one of the ones taking a hit. And Ronon's. And Lorne's.

There was one other choice. One way they might get out of this. John left his post and ran for the jumper bay, touching his ear to talk to Sam as he went.

He debarked from the jumper an hour later, still in a state of near-death exhilaration. He was met with cheers and gratitude and the nearly hysterical relief of people who'd been unexpectedly pulled back from the brink. Across the jumper bay, away from the crowd, one pair of stricken blue eyes watched as the other pilots gathered around him, congratulating him. John caught the gaze questioningly, but before he could break free of the crowd, Cam had slipped away.

Cam still hadn't said anything to him when John padded into his room later that night, after the rest of the city was asleep. He shifted over to make room when John crawled into the too-narrow bed, but his body was tense when John touched his shoulder. John waited for a minute, and then spoke when it was clear that Cam wouldn't.

"Are you okay?"

There was a long pause, and then Cam rolled over to face him.

"Sam says she ordered you to find a volunteer to take McKay's weapon up," he said flatly.

Which she had, and John knew she hadn't expected him to choose himself. He'd heard plenty about it from her afterwards. But he'd never been a man who ordered others into death unless he was there to lead the charge. Nor one who trusted the survival of his city to someone else's willingness to die.

"Yeah."

"And you volunteered yourself. Even though you were still needed in the control chair. And even though you knew Atlantis would need her military commander afterwards, regardless of the outcome of the battle." Cam's voice was tightly controlled, suppressing...what? Anger, maybe. Fear. Grief. John couldn't read it. He studied Cam's face, trying to piece together what Cam was feeling. What he was looking for. John would give it if he could, if he knew what it was.

"You're critiquing my decision from a military perspective?" he asked lightly, hoping the night could still be salvaged.

"You don't.... I had to watch." Cam's voice broke a little on the words. He drew in a breath and continued in that slow, controlled voice, "I know what we do is dangerous. Every time one of us goes on a mission there's a chance that we won't come back. But damn it, John, you _made me watch_. You made me watch as you flew off to die, and you didn't even have to do it. Shouldn't have done it. And not just because of me, or all the other people who care about you. It was a stupid decision from a military perspective, and from a personal perspective...." His voice trailed off.

"I'm still here."

"Only because McKay's weapon actually managed to get a shot off without blowing itself up. First time, wasn't it? You had no way of knowing that's what would happen. Tell me you expected to come back when you launched that jumper."

John didn't reply. He hadn't expected to come back. He'd said as much, in his careful response when Cam had demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing.

"I'm sorry."

"But you'd do it again."

He couldn't deny it. The only people John was willing to trust Atlantis with...was willing to trust Cam's life with...were people he didn't want to lose. People he wasn't sure he could bear to watch die knowing that he could have gone in their place. It wasn't in him.

"It's not just this," Cam added. "I read the reports from Atlantis. And Ronon and Teyla both say you've been taking more risks than usual lately. Putting yourself in danger when you don't have to. I don't understand it, John. What are you trying to prove?"

"I'm not..." John began.

"Then what are you trying to escape?" The pain in Cam's voice was unmistakable. John wanted to reach out and touch him, to reassure him, but he didn't think Cam would welcome it. Not when he was the source. And he didn't think he could tell Cam the truth, which was that he had been trying to prove to himself that his relationship with Cam hadn't compromised his ability to do his job. To make the sacrifice, if necessary. To protect his people.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"Yeah," Cam said shortly and rolled away. John waited for a minute, not sure whether to leave or stay, and then slipped a cautious arm around Cam. He held his breath until he felt Cam relax against him just a little, and then let it out slowly and buried his head in Cam's hair, and tried to figure out how to give Cam what he needed.

* * *

 

John counted off firsts, sometimes, when he was lying alone in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, and counting stars and sheep and prime numbers failed him. First solo flight. First firefight. First kiss.

The first time he kissed Cam--the beginning of the friends-who-also-sometimes-had-sex phase--had been shortly after Earth retook Atlantis from the Replicators, during the long days of debriefing that the IOA and SGC had insisted on. They let him leave the Mountain after that first day with strict orders to return the following morning. John had turned down offers of supper from the people he'd already spent all day with and knew he'd be seeing again the following day, and then realized he had no other plans to substitute. Cam's apartment seemed like the natural solution--the place he'd been going to for weeks when the world became too much and he had nowhere else to go. The kiss had been impulsive, triggered by something indefinable in Cam's expression when he'd opened his front door. Something about his smile, maybe, when he'd seen who was there, that made John think he might welcome something more than friendship.

Their first date--which John defined in his head as the first time they went out together with the expectation that they were going to have sex afterwards--was dinner and a movie. Steak and an action flick, Cam's suggestions and he paid for both of them, grinning, and told John he could pick up the bill next time.

"Does that mean I get to pick the movie too?"

Cam made a face. "Only if it doesn't have subtitles." Which wasn't really fair, since John had only rented one video with subtitles, and even Cam had admitted that it had been worth the effort.

The first time Cam said the words, they were lying in the dark, relaxed and sleepy, on a night before John was scheduled to return to Atlantis. Cam had whispered into the side of his neck, voice low and just a little hesitant, as if he wasn't quite sure of John's response. John had turned and kissed him hard, running his hands along Cam's body in an effort to capture every aspect of the moment in his memory.

He hadn't said anything in return.

* * *

 

One emergency led to another, and it was six months before John saw Cam again. By then Sam had been replaced by Woolsey, and Cam had left SG1 to return to flying 302s, and was talking about possibly following in Sam's footsteps and getting a ship and command of his own, with the way Earth was expanding its fleet.

John had spent a lot of time thinking about how to approach Cam's next visit. He wasn't sure how his plans would be received. He and Cam hadn't said much to each other that last morning, and only the harsh, desperate way Cam kissed him just before leaving had told John that they were still together. Afterwards, they couldn't say much. Making-up was a challenge when all you had were weekly email bursts that could be read by anyone, and probably were. But they'd kept in touch, and gradually settled back into a familiar rhythm. John hoped they'd be able to recapture the same ease in person.

The first day was as awkward as their reunions always were, made more so by the way they'd parted, and by the fact that John felt a greater need to hide his relationship from Woolsey than he had from Elizabeth or Sam.

"He's not military," Cam said, but he didn't really fight John on it. He'd always been the more cautious one when it came to at least giving the appearance of complying with regs.

John had his reasons for wanting to remain discreet around Woolsey. Like not provoking uncomfortable questions when, three days into Cam's visit, John told Woolsey that he and Cam were going to accompany Ronon and Teyla on a little cultural exchange, and he shouldn't bother waiting up for them. Cam had cocked an eyebrow at the request, but he'd gone along with it readily enough, showing up in full gear in the gate room at the appointed hour without asking too many questions about where they were going.

"You will not need that," Teyla said, gesturing to the P90.

"Momma always said never go unarmed to parties where you might run into alien space vampires," Cam said solemnly, cradling the gun protectively.

"Good advice," Ronon said. His own gun was holstered at his side, and John knew he carried his full set of blades.

"Very well," Teyla agreed, and John signalled the techs to start dialling.

It had taken John and Teyla (mostly Teyla) some effort to get permission to attend. John felt more than repaid by the expression on Cam's face as he looked around in awe.

"What is this place, Sheppard?"

"It's a fair," John said smugly.

"Some fair," Cam said, eyeing the crowds of people and the long lines of colourful tents, sheltered by . He turned slowly, taking it all in.

"The _Turnali_ is a longstanding custom on Phelis," Teyla said.

"It's impressive," Cam said. "Aren't they worried about being culled? There's a lot of people here."

"Phelis has not been culled in living memory. The Wraith seem to have forgotten it exists. As have most other planets. My people are among the few they trade with regularly."

"Let's look around," John said.

The four of them wandered the grounds together, stopping occasionally to buy food from one of the vendors, or watch the various competitions. Ronon took part in a few, winning an engraved sheath at a knife throwing competition and some copper-coloured bracelets at a wrestling match. As the afternoon wore on, Ronon and Teyla both left for separate events, leaving John and Cam to explore alone.

Generations of peace had apparently paid off in technological advancements, including a number of gadgets that startled even John. Cam pulled him along, travelling eagerly from booth to booth. John followed obediently and tried to look engaged, but most of his attention was given over to mentally rehearsing his plans for the night--the whole reason he'd arranged this little trip. Because as much as Cam seemed to have forgiven him, John didn't think they could continue without some change.

He hadn't quite figured out the _where_\--there'd been no way to scout ahead--but he thought the _when_ would be soon, if only because he couldn't take much more waiting. Besides, Cam had grabbed his hand three aisles back, and was bound to notice soon that his palms were sweating.

Dusk was falling and John was about ready to start the conversation in the middle of the crowd when Cam stopped abruptly, pulling John to a halt beside him. He turned to John with a grin.

"It's your night." He nodded to their right, and John turned to look, and gaped in astonishment at the sight. Straight ahead, bright against the darkening sky, was a Ferris wheel. Or at least a passable imitation of one, and how the hell had he missed that? The _Turnali_ grounds were big, but they weren't _that_ big. "Come on," Cam said, tugging on his hand. John went.

The Ferris wheel moved slowly, which left John paradoxically grateful. He'd decided the top was as good a place as any to begin, but as they crept upwards, his mouth dried out and his stomach roiled until he was sure he was going to lose his nerve. Cam didn't seem to notice, keeping up a line of chatter about Sam's new posting and the latest news from his parents. He was telling the story of a church-sponsored pie eating contest to which his mother had contributed pies when they reached the peak. John waited until he was done, then turned to him seriously.

"Cam," he said and then stopped, all words fleeing.

Cam looked at him curiously, patiently waiting.

"Do you think," John began and then stopped again. It still wasn't coming out right. He smiled self-deprecatingly. Tried for a joke. "I was going to do this on the ground. Go down on one knee and all that. But then this was here and it seemed like a good idea until we got up here." He paused, trying to assess Cam's expression. Mostly he looked shocked. "Maybe it's better this way," John added. "I took the traditional route last time and you know how that worked out."

"Are you...are you asking me to marry you?"

John rubbed the back of his neck nervously. The only way out now was through. "Yeah." He heard Cam draw in a deep breath and release it slowly.

"That's not what I was expecting," Cam said. "I mean, you know we can't do that."

"Why not? As long as we're careful."

"By careful you mean go to Canada?"

John shrugged. He looked away, out across the fairgrounds.

"What brought this on?" Cam asked. "This isn't something...we never talked about this."

They hadn't really talked about the future at all, really. Perhaps because it was too painful, talking about all the things they couldn't have. But they could have this, if they wanted it. Even though they couldn't tell anyone. Even though it wouldn't mean as much as it should.

John swallowed. Kept his eyes on the people below. "I thought...I wanted you to know that I'm not trying to escape. That I wasn't trying to run away from you. From us. That I love you." He rushed over the last words, still finding them as difficult to say now as he had with Nancy.

"I know that," Cam said quietly. "I didn't mean what I said, before. I was upset. But this...you don't have to prove anything to me." A half-truth, John judged. On some level, Cam had wondered. He was too honest to have spoken those words otherwise.

"It isn't just about that," John said. "I want something permanent. With you. Or as permanent as we can get."

"I'd like that," Cam said immediately. "But I don't know if I can do marriage right now."

John nodded. "Okay."

"It's not you. It's just...when I get married, I want to be able to have my friends there. I want my parents to watch. I want to make those vows in front of witnesses, so that they all know what you mean to me. I don't want to run off to another country and spend ten minutes in front of a judge and that's it."

John had had plenty of witnesses at his first wedding. It hadn't made a different in the long run. But Cam's relationship with his family was different. And John had to admit that he wouldn't mind having Rodney and Ronon and Teyla and Sam present on the day. As long as the day eventually came.

"Later, then," John said. He turned to Cam, who smiled at him.

"Yeah. Later. As long as you don't get yourself killed doing something stupid first."

"I'll try." He leaned back settling against Cam, who wrapped an arm around him. Together they looked down at the tents and the lights and the slow-falling dark.


End file.
